


League of Lessons

by parkchandaddy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, BaekYeol - Freeform, Byun Baekhyun - Freeform, ChanBaek - Freeform, Chanbaek Smut, College AU, Dom Baekhyun, EXO - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, Fraternities & Sororities, Kim Jongin - Freeform, M/M, Oh Sehun - Freeform, Park Chanyeol - Freeform, Soft Park Chanyeol, i dont typically write soft!chanyeol so this should be fun, i posted this on a whim spare me, kim minseok - Freeform, maybe??? subish chanyeol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-11
Updated: 2018-01-11
Packaged: 2019-03-03 12:35:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13341396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkchandaddy/pseuds/parkchandaddy
Summary: There were a lot of things Chanyeol expected from that night, after being dragged by his carrot-topped roommate to a godforsaken frat house on a Friday night. The one thing he wasn't expecting, however, was in an attempt to escape the anxiety-inducing noise of the party, he ended up walking in on a boy with headphones shouting obnoxiously at his computer.(freshmen!chanyeol, senior!baekhyun)





	League of Lessons

“Dude, what the fuck are you doing?”

Park Chanyeol feels a looming presence over his shoulder, startling him and causing the pen he was writing with to tumble out of his fingers. The 19-year-old freshman was currently hunched over his desk, eyes glued to his forensics textbook.

Taking a single earbud out and peeking his head over his shoulder, Chanyeol looks up to see the ever-stoic face of his carrot-topped roommate, Oh Sehun.

“What?”

Sehun rolls his eyes dramatically, and repeats himself, tone drawing borderline mundane.

“I _said_ ,” he huffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Chanyeol blinks up at the boy, confused, before turning his head back down to his desk, and then right back at him once more.

“I… what? I’m doing my forensics homework.”

Sehun makes a disgusted face.

“Why?”

“Because… it was… assigned? Do you not understand the concept of homework?”

“No you dumbass, I mean _why_ are you spending a Friday night doing your fucking homework? How lame are you?”

Catching on finally, Chanyeol lets out a tired sigh, and turns back to his work with a pout.

“Fuck off, Sehun. Just because you like procrastinating your shit until the last moment doesn’t mean I have to, too.”

Another presence, unfortunately, takes its place behind his broad shoulders.

“Is he seriously doing his homework on a Friday again?”

Chanyeol recognizes the voice of his third and final roommate, Kim Jongin, was peeking over his other unoccupied shoulder, and lets out a loud, seal-like bark that was supposed to resemble laughter.

Giving up, the taller of the three slams his textbook shut and pushes back on his chair, swiveling it around to begin glowering at the intruders frostily.

“Do you guys have to do this every fucking weekend?”

“Yes,” Jongin takes a bite of the Hot Pocket he was nursing in his hand, gasping when the hot contents singe the roof of his mouth.

“Seriously, Chanyeol, it's been a month into the semester now and you still haven’t gone out with us once,” Sehun whines, crossing his arms. “How much longer are you going to coop yourself up in your room like this?”

Swinging the chair side to side, Chanyeol takes time to reflect a moment. Okay, sure, it had been months of finishing his assignments and readings ahead of time during the weekends to leave him room during the week to binge Netflix series and waste time away leveling up his Pokemon.

But he just couldn’t bring himself to find interest in going out every weekend with his party-crazed roommates. Jongin and Sehun even partied on _Sundays._ They both always trudged their way to their Monday morning classes hungover and disheveled.

Meanwhile, Chanyeol always awoke at reasonable time and made his way to classes free from the rank of vomit and human bodily fluids.

He just wasn’t that type of guy. Sue him for being a stick in the mud, but “frat parties” just seemed like a waste of his time. And, a place that just guaranteed to cause his social anxiety to skyrocket into the goddamned atmosphere.

So, he politely declined each and every weekend, occupying himself with his schoolwork to get out of being dragged against his will to god knows where until god knows when. And Chanyeol took pride in being able to pull it off for this long. He figured if he stuck to this tactic, the Terrible Two would finally give up, and quit asking him to tag along.

“Hey, you two are Undeclared majors. How can you even-“

“Oh here he goes again,” Jongin rolls his eyes, sighing.

“-compare my workload to yours when all you take is required-“

“’ _-electives,_ ’” Sehun finishes for him with another disgusted snort. “You’re hopeless, Park Chanyeol.”

Just as the two were about to turn, and finally leave him to rest, a call flies in, springing Chanyeol’s phone to life.

“Oh, it’s Eugene. He’s probably at the door, can you let him in?”

“Who?” Sehun looks puzzled.

“A kid from my class. He’s here to borrow my notes. Just answer the door.”

When neither male makes any notion to move, Chanyeol sighs, and answers the phone call with a huff.

“Hey. Eugene the doors open. Just come in, and walk into the third room on the right side.”

After hanging up, all three boys wait in silence as they hear the front door open with a creak, and the soft padded footsteps on carpet, until a face was peeking around the door.

“Oh, hi, Chanyeol.”

Eugene strolls inside awkwardly, throwing timid hellos to Sehun and Jongin as he weaves between them to make a beeline for Chanyeol’s desk.

Chanyeol motions to the purple notebook beside his laptop.

“It’s everything we went over last class.”

“Cool, thanks. You really are always on top of your stuff, huh?” Eugene nods, and just as he was about to turn and make his exit, he notices the notes currently scribbled out on the notebook in front of him. “Wait…”

Sehun had already left the room, uninterested and bored. Jongin was turning tail to follow when Eugene’s next words root him to the ground.

“Aren’t these next week’s notes? Dude, I get you like being ahead, but we’re not going to even touch this stuff after our exam for chapters one through five.”

Heart rate kicking up a notch, Chanyeol wants to take the notebook and slap it across Eugene’s round, acne-ridden face.

“You should just focus on studying for the exam now-“

Jongin’s eyes were narrowed now, and Chanyeol could feel them boring into his now sweaty forehead.

Yes. He was aware how far ahead these notes were. He was aware of the chaptered test, and he had already studied and memorized the material days ago. However, by doing so, it left him completely available for the weekend, and no longer gave him an excuse to use to turn down his pestering roommates for a night out.

And this blundering idiot had just ruined his goddamned plans.

Jongin lets out an angry screech.

_“Park Chanyeol, you cunning son of a bitch!”_

Flinching, the boy lets out a low groan, hearing Sehun’s thundering footsteps come rushing back into the room, and Eugene beside him suddenly looks startled.

“What? What happened, what’s going on?” the orange-haired boy looks in-between an offended Jongin and a cowering Chanyeol, eyes hungry.

“This little _fucker,_ ” Jongin seethes. “Has been lying to us this _whole time!_ He finishes his homework for the week and then starts next week’s homework just so he can lie and tell us he’s too busy to go out!”

Eugene looks completely out of place in this moment, almost to the extent that it was laughable. The boy looks in-between the roommates nervously, almost like he could feel the oncoming hell that was about to break loose. And just as Sehun opened his mouth to begin berating the oldest of the three, Eugene was slipping past them, sprinting out the door, notebook clinging to his chest to escape the wrath he had unleashed.

Sehun had both hands wrapped around Chanyeol’s shoulder’s, shaking him too and fro, while Jongin had decided it would be best to start rocking him side to side, both boys attacking him with endless verbiage that he couldn’t quite piece together nicely.

He managed to catch:

_“I knew you were just trying to avoid going out, I knew it!”_

_“You sly fox, how dare you try and fool us-“_

_“Trying to make fools out of us, huh?!”_

_“You are most definitely coming out with us tonight now!”_

The last words, graced upon him by his stupid pumpkin-headed friend, causes Chanyeol’s stomach to tighten up in fear.

“What?” he breathes, trying to shake off the two impish boys.

“You heard me you twat, you have no reason to not come tonight.”

“Yeah,” Jongin jeers on, doing nothing but instigating as usual.

“Look, Sehun, I’m sorry I lied, but I _really_ can’t go out-“

“Oh yes you can, you lazy oaf,” Sehun lowers his hands to wrap around his wrist, and tugs him forcefully out of his seat.

“Sehun!” Chanyeol shrieks, trying to rip his arm out of the boy’s grip, but he was locked on tight. Jongin quickly takes action as well, clinging to his torso from behind as he shoves him forward, out of his room, and in the direction of Sehun’s.

“No!” he wails, thrashing and flopping pathetically in the boys’ grip, feeling his anxiety rise with every forceful step forward.

“Time to live a little, Chanyeol! One night out won’t kill you!”

 

Jongin’s words echoed in his mind a few hours later, as he stands behind a busy line en route to a small, dimly lit house.

It was bitingly cold, the September weather chilly and unforgiving, and he shivered as he clung his bare arms to himself.

_Wouldn’t kill him, huh?_

He was quickly starting to think otherwise. Hypothermia was definitely a plausible way to go. Especially with the thin, skin-tight button down Sehun shoved him into. Chanyeol didn’t do tight tees. He preferred his black ripped skinnies and his ridiculously oversized sweaters, shirts and jackets much, much better.

But like everything regarding tonight, he was begrudgingly brought here in it, and now he could feel his heart thumping wildly in his throat as the vibrating bass of the music inside grew closer and closer with every passing minute.

Sehun and Jongin chattered excitedly amongst each other behind him, and Chanyeol wondered if he could just make a break for it. Sehun didn’t care enough to chase after him and Jongin wouldn’t do anything Sehun wouldn’t anyways.

But by running, he’d be drawing attention to himself, and by drawing attention he’d probably get flustered, and then he might trip and fall, drawing _even more attention-_

“Hey!”

A loud, high-pitched voice cuts through Chanyeol’s thoughts, and he blinks down until he makes eye-contact with a short, stout looking man.

With the face that looked like it had been dipped into the fountain of youth.

“You here all by yourself, buddy?” the man raises an eyebrow up, giving him a conspicuous look. “Is this your first time here at the frat? There has to be ratio, man.”

Heart racing, Chanyeol can’t focus on anything other than the fact of how _young_ the man in front of him looked. He couldn’t be any older than Chanyeol. He was the bouncer of the house, apparently.

Chanyeol still hasn’t spoken, and the man’s smile slowly begins to fade into annoyance, until he notices the fluff of Sehun’s hair sticking out behind him.

“Oh Sehun?” he tips his head to the side, looking around Chanyeol, and Sehun offers him a smug smile.

“Kim Minseok. Nice seeing you again.”

“The pleasures all mine,” the man rakes his eyes over Sehun’s lean figure once, and Chanyeol nearly flushes _for_ Sehun. Then the man slides his glance back over to Chanyeol.

“Look, buddy if you’re not going to say anything-“

“He’s with us,” Sehun interrupts Minseok with a wave, and begins ushering Chanyeol inside with a laugh and Minseok merely steps aside, letting the three of them breeze inside without another word.

Chanyeol wasn’t ready. He wasn’t prepared at all for the scene that unfolded in front of him in a split second.

It was the smell that hit him first.

The entire house _reeked_ of marijuana, a smell he grew to familiarize by living with Dumb and Dumber beside him. Not only did it smell of the drug, the whole house, from what was _visible_ , was fogged up by the smoke as well.

Chanyeol thinks Jongin was trying to tell him something on his right, but whatever it was that he wanted to say got swallowed up into the dominating bass that quite literally _shook_ the whole house. He swore he could feel his entire being booming along in time, chest rattling with every shaky step he took.

How the fuck was he supposed to do anything? It was so stuffy and crowded and half the people didn’t have faces. He just saw a lot of red and shadowed black casted over every figure, either talking amongst themselves or moving as much as they could on the congested dance floor.

It wasn’t a big house. The space to people ratio was well beyond fucked, and because you couldn’t dare to stand still, he was just letting the pushing and shoving around him guide him across the house.

He didn’t even realize far behind him his name was being called out as he was lost in a sea of people (a man as tall as him lost; go figure) packed together like sardines.

It finally hit him, 10 minutes later, when he was now standing on the outskirts of the dancefloor, that there was no longer a Jongin or a goddamned Sehun standing on either of his sides.

“Oh fuck me,” the panic sets in now. “Oh _fuck me!_ ”

Whipping his head around frantically, Chanyeol’s first instincts kicked in to push him back towards the entrance of the building, but without even bothering to take a step in that direction, he knew it was futile.

There was a seemingly never-ending stream of people coming from that direction, and he’d literally have to _plow_ through everyone to make his way back.

_Fuck._

Digging out his cellphone, Chanyeol tries calling the boys, but after several attempts, he ended up meeting nothing but their voicemails. 15 texts, awkward shuffling and sweating pits later, and Chanyeol was actually on the verge of having a full-blown panic attack.

In his desperate clamor, he had inched forward until he weaved passed the line for drinks, beyond the potheads smoking in “designated” corners, until he was pressed up against an empty stairway that led to the second floor of the home.

Eyeing the dark stairs warily, Chanyeol shakes his head.

No.

He couldn’t just barge upstairs stranger’s homes like he owned the place. He was raised with some common sense.

But as time ticked on, he was beginning to grow restless. The music just seemed to grow louder with every passing second, the room stuffier and the air near nonexistent. Chanyeol thinks he’s panting, but he can’t be sure. He doesn’t see much in front of him, rather he simply feels the cool wood of the poles along the forbidden staircase.

The internal battle he was having within himself didn’t last much longer.

Because when he finally notices a couple come stumbling his way in a drunken, lust-filled haze, Chanyeol quite literally _bolts_ up the stairs.

Every step higher was reducing the noise in his eardrums. The headache was fading, slowly becoming muffled and distant, until he was walking straight across a bare, empty hardwood floor that signaled his arrival upstairs.

Upstairs in the house of a fraternity he wasn’t even quite sure the name of. What was it again? Pi Kappa? Kappa pi? Sigma pi kappa? Omega 3 fish oil?

Like Chanyeol gave a flying fuck.

Looking around slowly now, breathing finally calming and his heart rate returning to normal, he finally begins to wrack his brain for an idea while he rode out the rest of this troublesome night.

He figured he could hang out here, maybe sit on the top of the stairs so it didn’t seem like he was doing anything suspicious, and wait the night out. That, or wait until he heard back from his stupid, moronic friends who dragged him out and left him stranded to fend for himself.

 

But the idea of someone coming upstairs and then asking why and what he wasn’t doing sitting up here was unsettling, prompting unwanted conversation and unneeded suspicion anyways.

And as if answering his fears, the boy could hear heavy steps begin making their way upstairs.

Pacing slowly, Chanyeol scans what he could see from his current position. There were a total of 4 bedrooms upstairs, two close to the stairs, and two hidden in back corners of the walls. The furthest to the back was out of sight. Heart jumping in his throat as the footsteps drew closer and closer, Chanyeol isn’t sure what he was supposed to do. He was scared and tired and ready to call the night off. There was a good chance every room was empty, anyways.

He’d hide out for a bit until he could get a hold of one of his _stupid_ roommates, and then be on his way, home to his too-small mattress and box of Cheez-its to keep him company.

Chanyeol had chosen the furthest room, at the end of the hallway, hidden by a large wall. It seemed like the last place one would check, and the furthest from the noise. It was a shame in his frenzy of anxiety he didn’t notice the soft, yellow glow of light casted onto the carpet in front of the door, or the muffled and frantic voice coming from inside.

Chanyeol quite literally _flings_ the bedroom door open so harshly, it smacks into the wall with a hearty _thump._ The noise reverberates across the room, the dim lighting making it hard to see.

“What the fuck?”

The voice sounded confused, and rightfully so.

Finally prying his eyelids open, Chanyeol takes in the scene before him.

And while he was absolutely unsure of what to expect, nothing could have prepared him for the sight he saw.

Sitting directly across the room was a boy nestled deeply into his chair, black eyes poking over the rims of his non-prescription glasses in bewilderment. He looked young. His hair was black and flat across his forehead, the rest of it hidden under a massive pair of headphones.

The two held eye contact for what seemed like an eternity.

Neither person spoke. Neither moved. The only sounds that could be heard were faint and muffled voices coming from the insides of the boy’s headset. That, and the newly exposed sounds coming from below that had entered the room as soon as he had entered it.

Figuring he should open his mouth, Chanyeol was going to speak, but mystery boy beats him to it.

“Hold on, wait,” he looks back down at his screen now, as if Chanyeol didn’t just burst right into his room, and lets out a panicked scream. “Fuck, _I’m sorry! I was- I just, there’s some fucking kid in my room, I wasn’t paying attention-_ “

Chanyeol blinks in bewilderment as the boy’s frantic fingers begin tapping away at the keyboard and mouse, mouth hanging open in an extended pout.

“No I know I should be flanking right now, but I missed my opportunity because-“ the boy presses his headphones closer to his head. “What? _Wait, what? I can’t hear you. Oh my fucking god!”_

The black-haired boy was staring right at him again, eye’s widened in deranged panic, pointing frantically at the open door.

“Get the _fuck out!”_ he screeches.

Chanyeol nearly shits his pants from the intensity of the boy’s words, limbs turning to jelly and his knees locking at once.

He didn’t know what to do. The fire in the boy’s eyes die out the moment he sees Chanyeol’s tall frame visibly flinch, and he lets out a frustrated groan. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, then, headset flung to the side as he quite literally _sprints_ over to the door, slamming it shut in earnest. And in record time, he was leaping back into his chair, scrambling until he places the headset back onto his soft-looking hair with an out-of-breath: _“I’m back!”_

A minute passes and Chanyeol still hasn’t moved from his spot by the door, and he’s wondering now at this point if he should just leave. It wasn’t worth the humiliation and time to sit here and try to explain why he had just barged into this noisy boy’s room, not that he seemed to give a single fuck, and it wasn’t worth trying to wait it out for his roommates.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, Chanyeol nearly blinks back tears then. Why did he always end up in such humiliating situations like this? All his life, he barely managed to get by under the radar, bullying and insistent teasing just a fuck-up away.

He was just going to go downstairs, shove his tall ass through the crowd, and get the _hell out of-_

“Yo, Jack and the Beanstalk, you going to stand there like that all night?”

Snapping out of his thoughts, Chanyeol blinks over to where the boy sat, headset now sitting snug around his neck. Seemed the game was over now, because he was pushed far off his desk, leaning back into the seat with a relaxed posture.

“I….” he starts, staring at the boy’s dainty fingers drumming across the desk. “Did you… lose?”

Rolling his eyes dramatically, the stranger lets out a snort.

“Well duh, no thanks to you.”

Normally, he’d feel bad. He did come barging into this guy’s room and interrupted whatever it was… he was doing. But considering how shit his night was going, he lacked a bit of sympathy at the moment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quietly, kicking his toe into the dirty carpet a moment.

This was really awkward. Seemed the boy picked up his vibe as well, because he releases an annoyed sigh.

“Oh don’t pout,” he stretches his arms over his head. “It’s cool, we were losing the game to begin with.”

“Ah, uhm, okay.”

Another beat of silence.

“So,” the boy cocks his head to the side, curious. “Did you run into an ex or something downstairs?”

Halting his kicking, Chanyeol looks up with a confused pout.

“Huh?”

“Yknow,” the boy waves his hands around in thought. “See someone you didn’t like?”

“I… don’t…”

“Why the hell are you upstairs barging into other people’s rooms, is what I’m asking, kid. I tried to soften the blow.”

Face warming in embarrassment, Chanyeol lowers his head again.

“I ah,” gnawing on his lower lip, he lets out a sigh. “Sorry, I uhm, no. I didn’t see an ex or anything…”

He felt scrutinized. The boy was staring at him so intently, he was getting uncomfortable pricks all over his body, making him shiver and shudder despite the room being nice and warm. The look in his eyes was different now, though. Instead of wild, and panicked like before, they were curious and intrigued.

“What’s your name, string bean?”

“C-Chanyeol.”

Nodding, the boy scoots his chair a couple inches until he could reach out and pat the bed behind him.

“Right. Come, sit, Chanyeol.”

Debating the thought in his mind, the tall boy blinks a moment longer, before he shrugs, and complies, seating himself timidly on the large bed. The boy’s hand extends after Chanyeol had seated himself.

Chanyeol shakes his soft-looking hand, which was _so small_ inside his own, and clears his throat once. 

“So uhm,” he looks around the stylized bedroom, a bit jealous of how aesthetically pleasing everything in it was. “Is this your room?”

Swiveling back and forth in his office-chair, the black-haired boy nods. 

“Sure is.”

Another pause of silence. 

“Your housemates, they uh, they always throw parties like this?” 

An amused smirk curls its way onto his pink lips, and Chanyeol can’t help but fluster. 

“Oh, for sure. Every weekend they throw down. If not here, it’s another house.”

“Doesn’t that get annoying? I mean, or distracting?” he motions to the computer sitting idly on the desk. 

“Nah, you get used to it. From the looks of it, I’m guessing you don’t come to parties that often, do you?”

So he stuck out like a sore thumb, is what Chanyeol was getting. Great. 

Nodding sheepishly, he runs a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah,” sighing, he looks down into his lap. “This is my first, actually. I’ve been dodging my roommates since the semester started but I couldn’t wiggle my way out of it this time.”

The boy in the chair’s smirk grows even wider. Chanyeol held his breath, waiting for the insult or taunt on its way. 

“Cute.”

Releasing his breath quietly, the lanky boy pauses a moment, before scrunching his face up in confusion. 

“Wait, what?”

“Cute. That’s really cute. It’s your first party, and you ended up here, in my bedroom instead of mingling about.”

The blush from before returns now, creeping up Chanyeol’s cheeks, staining them cherry red. 

“Shut up,” he mumbles under his breath, adjusting his bangs with a large, protruding pout settling on his face. “It’s so loud down there, I can’t see anything and it's so _stuffy_ I feel like I can’t even _breath-”_

 _“What do you mean you can’t see?”_ the boy was hollering with laughter now, his quivering smirk unable to keep him composed any longer. “You’re so fucking _tall!_ If I had your height, I’d just shove everyone around me to get where I wanted.”

Holding a stare, the boy’s laughter slowly dissipates when he see’s Chanyeol’s pout grow, and he stifles his giggles with another smirk, and shakes his head slowly. 

“Well, when the shit down there gets a bit much, I always come up here and play a round of League.”

He swivels around in his chair, and moves his mouse around to bring the screen to life, displaying the game for Chanyeol to see. 

“You ever play?”

Shaking his head, Chanyeol peers closer to the screen. 

“I’ve heard about this game but uh,” he pauses, scratching his head. “I haven’t heard particularly… great things.”

The pout had now travelled onto the stranger's face, and Chanyeol thinks it’s indescribably adorable. 

“What?” the defense in his voice was apparent. “What did you hear? That it’s full of trolls? It’s not, people are just so _over dramatic_ , they lose once to a higher ranking player and start going off all over the forums-”

“N-no, no-” Chanyeol tries to intervene, but the stranger wasn’t having any of it, already knee-deep in his rant. 

“And some people like to say this game takes no skill, that you just press a bunch of buttons to win-”

“Isn’t that all video games though-” Chanyeol tries interjecting once again. 

“-but no one really _appreciates_ just how complex and rewarding it is to finally learn and excel in this kind of game!”

Chanyeol tries his best to bite back a smile, because this random boy he had stumbled across just went off about a _video game_ for almost 5 minutes now. And it was really endearing. 

“Honestly, I just like first person shooters. Like Overwatch.”

Rant over, the stranger’s eyebrows perk up a bit at that, and he chuckles. 

“Okay, so I guess you’re alright. Overwatch is fun. But come,” the boy motions Chanyeol closer. “Let me show you the ways of League, and after I’m done, you can try and tell me this isn’t the single best competitive MMO out there.”

To be completely honest, Chanyeol could give less of a shit about a “League of Legends.” But, the expectant twinkle and eager smile of the stranger before him was so captivating, that he didn’t have it in him to say no. So, with a small, tentative smile, Chanyeol pulls a side chair over from the room and promptly seats himself beside the bubbly boy. 

“Alright!” he starts, fingers dancing excitedly over the keyboard, nearly bouncing in his seat. “So, first I’m going to show you all the different characters and abilities each one has, just like in Overwatch so-”

And just as his “lesson” had begun, it abruptly ended with the slam of the bedroom door and a panicked, out of breath boy gasping out at the foot of it. 

“Byun! Byun, it’s the cops. We need you to come down and talk to them.”

Sighing gruffly, the stranger, or “Byun”, shifts in his chair, and stands. 

“Have you flipped on the lights? Why is the music still on, cut it. Start sending people home. Make sure those who’re really fucked up leave from the back of the house.”

Nodding, the boy dashes off, and Chanyeol’s black-haired stranger lets out a final sigh before looking to him with a wary smile. 

“Sorry man, looks like we gotta cut the lesson short. Duty calls. Oh, but,” he stops as he heads to the door, Chanyeol awkwardly following him out stopping at once to avoid colliding into the boy, who, may he say, was incredibly short. “If you ever wanna come back and resume it, tell them you’re here for Baekhyun. Byun Baekhyun. I’ll see you around, stringbean.”

 

“Dude where the _hell_ did you go?!” 

Chanyeol had run into Dumb and Dumber on the walk back home, bobbing in between mass groups of intoxicated teenagers, stumbling and laughing hysterically amongst themselves as they left the party. 

To be specific, he had stumbled and nearly tripped over what seemed to be a crouched Kim Jongin in the middle of a sidewalk that led to their dorm building, eyes fixated on the remains of a bag of Cheetos. When the boy was asked what in god's name he was doing practically laying on the floor, the only remark made was: 

“Bro, how sad is this? This bag isn’t even empty. It’s just _laying_ here, abandoned and half empty. Like… that’s so fucking sad.” 

It was then, when Chanyeol attempted to lug his now sobbing roommate off of the goddamned sidewalk, that a wild Sehun comes bursting out of the bushes, racing over to the two at a speed that had him nearly whizz past if he hadn’t clamped his sticky hands onto Chanyeol’s sleeve to steady himself. 

“Where did _I_ go?” Chanyeol grumbles, honestly fed up with the night as it was. “Where the fuck did _you guys go?_ ” he bites, struggling now to rip the bag of Cheetos out of Jongin’s hands while simultaneously balancing his other stupid, swaying roommate. 

“We-” Sehun points an index in the air, very matter-of-factly. “We lost you. And so we tried to find you, but,” he pauses, the finger in the air now poking at a cheek while he thought. “We ran into our friend Daniel, and Daniel had a couple blunts on him, so we helped him finish them. Then we tried finding you again. But then Jongin started a shotgunning competition with some guy and so then I had to join in too because well, _he was-”_

Chanyeol’s hand comes up, clamping the boy’s mouth shut, and he shakes his head in annoyance. 

“Look, forget it. Let’s just get you two inside so I can go the fuck to bed.”

It took about 15 minutes of coaxing and convincing to get Jongin to abandon his beloved snack bag, and another 10 to steady Sehun enough on his hip to make the difficult trek inside their building, pushing and shoving their way into the elevator, fumbling with their keys and finally dumping each boy into their separate bedrooms. 

Chanyeol was just about to switch off Sehun’s light and head to bed when the boy speaks up again. 

“You never said where you went.”

Turning in the doorway to stare at the boy’s lopsided gaze, he sighs. 

“I ran upstairs. I ended up in some guy’s room, but he was pretty nice about it I guess.”

“Dude, _what?”_ Sehun gasps. “You went upstairs in the frat house? You went into someone’s _room?_ That’s not cool, dude.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t left with many options thanks to you two-” he starts, annoyance building, but Sehun cuts him off. 

“W-who’s room was it?” he slurs. 

“I dunno. Some guy named Byun Baekhyun. He didn’t look like much though, he was just in his room playing some video game.”

Sehun bolts upright then, eye’s wide. 

“Get the fuck out of here. You barged into _Byun Baekhyun’s room?!”_

Pausing, Chanyeol nods hesitantly. 

“Uh, yeah? I guess.”

“Do you have a death wish?!” he screams. “Oh my god, Chanyeol I’m surprised you weren’t _kicked out_ of that party.”

“Why the fuck would I get kicked out? He was just some boy and I didn’t even mean to barge into his room. He was pretty chill about it, he even told me to seek him out if I ever came back. Which I doubt I ever will.”

Sehun grows uncharacteristically quiet. Chanyeol wonders if the mixture of drugs and alcohol was finally wearing him out, but he speaks up once more after a moment. 

“You’d have been kicked out because that’s not just some fucking boy, Chanyeol. Byun Baekhyun is the head of that frat, and not only the head, but the _president_ of his association. He owns that house, and honestly, he owns this goddamned school too. Everybody knows who he is.”

This sends a shockwave of confusion through Chanyeol, and he opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. 

“B-but,” he stammers. “He doesn’t…. He doesn’t even look any older than me.”

“He’s a senior.”

Silence waves in between the two, and Sehun finally falls against the bed with a wistful sigh. 

“Looks like your night was _way_ more interesting than ours, Chan.”

Settled in his covers, Chanyeol curls against his comforter later that night, finally away from the crazy and in the comfort of his own room. 

But, instead of trying to will himself to sleep in an attempt to forget about the ridiculous turn of events, he had Sehun’s words circling his thoughts, mingling with the stranger’s bright eyes and coy smirk from earlier. 

_That_ boy was a senior? He was the president of his fraternity? Chanyeol was reeling. He figured he would just store the bizarre events in memory, and use tonight as an excuse for never wanting to go out with his roommates again, however, the more he lay awake and wondered, the more he _wanted_ to go back. 

He wanted to push past all the noise once more, he wanted to seek out those beady, black eyes and listen to the melodic laughter and sharp-witted taunts. Shaking his head slowly, Chanyeol pushes those absurd thoughts away. Why would he ever want to return back to the mess that was a college frat party?

Blinking up at the dark ceiling a while longer, Chanyeol does a good enough job to convince himself for the night that tonight was the last he’d see of Byun Baekhyun, and his elaborate, frivolous frat house.

 

***

It was roughly 4 days later, a bright and cloudless Tuesday afternoon, that had Chanyeol’s notion from Friday night thrown right out the window. The freshman was spending his break between his 12 o’clock and 2 o’clock classes sitting alongside his Student Commons building, face tilted up towards the shining sun as he sat leaned up against a concrete wall. The grass beneath him was soft, and his laptop sat balanced carefully in his lap. 

Chanyeol’s eyes skimmed glossily over his physics assignment open on the screen, scrolling through it with disinterest. Math was never his strong-point, making the task of surviving his hellish Physics class much more difficult than anticipated. The assignment wasn’t due until the end of the week, thankfully, but as usual, Chanyeol was starting ahead and this time just for the sole fact that he didn’t have the willpower to do so later. 

Oblivious to the events around him, he hadn’t noticed the crowds of people beginning to gather on the Compass ahead, a circular ground laying that extended in the heart of campus. It was only when the song playing through his headphones had starting fading away when he began to hear some particularly loud shouting and hollering noises from the crowd. Curious, Chanyeol peeks over the top of his laptop, popping a headphone out of his ear as he did. And at once, he’s overwhelmed with the sight before him. 

Clusters of students had begun dispersing out to surrounding what looked like a stand, pitched out in the dead center of the Compass. And at that stand, was a large florescent sign that read: _Tie Dye With the Phi Guys!_ Rolling his eyes at once, Chanyeol was about to shove his earbud back in at once, when the unexpected happens. 

Almost as if he had magically appeared, a boy had made his way onto the table in front of the stand, megaphone in hand, catching the attention of literally every living being in a mile radius when he presses the button on the device and screeches on the top of his goddamned lungs:

_“Hey! Over here, are you tired of your boring, bland everyday wardrobe? Need a little color and excitement in your life? Then look no further! Come tie dye with the Phi Guys! You! Over there, in the basic white tee!”_

A sea of head turns to a poor, unsuspecting boy crossing across the campus, who jolts, startled, and looks down at his t-shirt warily. 

_“Yes! You! Bring that ass over, get some color in your life!”_

The students around erupt into laughter, and after a moment of contemplation, the boy shrugs, and starts strolling to the stand, earning a chorus of cheers from the posi already surrounding the heavily-populated area.

The boy on the table smirks, and it was at this point that Chanyeol begins to take in the males obnoxious getup. He was covered _head to toe_ in tie dye. Literally. He had on a pair of tie dyed Vans, to couple a pair of haphazardly dyed ankle socks. Further up he had on a pair of green, purple and orange dyed _booty shorts._ Not shorts. Booty shorts. Where they hugged the thick skin of his plump thighs, causing Chanyeol’s eyes to linger a little longer than intended. Continuing upwards, he’s matched with a tank top that was quite obviously once a t-shirt with the sleeves clean cut off, none of the tie dye quite matching each other. To top it all off, sitting atop his fluffy black hair was a pink and purple sweatband. 

Chanyeol wasn’t entirely sure what the actual hell was going on. For some odd reason, the outrageous male seemed strangely familiar. It was hard to put a thought or name to him when he had a pair of too-large-for-his-face sunglasses on, and a stupid fucking feather boa dangling off of his neck, but the voice rang out, stirring something within Chanyeol’s memories. 

He _knew_ he had heard this voice once before. And it only hits him a moment too late, when the sunglasses come flying off the stranger's face as he tilts his head back, presenting the one and only, Byun Baekhyun. 

Chanyeol’s at a bit of a loss for words, to be quite honest. Baekhyun had slipped his mind over the course of the week, pre-occupied with the barrage of assignments the closer they inched towards midterms. But here he was, crashing his mid-week flow like a freight train. 

As if in a trance, Chanyeol closes his laptop slowly, stuffing it into his bag without breaking his gaze in the boy’s direction. Baekhyun had now since made his way off of the table, in due to the high demand of students eager for their chance to tie dye cheap, cotton t-shirts with the senior. The other fraternity boys at the stand roll their eyes, amused smirks on their lips as their President’s in-your-face tactics, per usual, work out in his favor. 

Just who the hell _was_ Byun Baekhyun? 

Chanyeol asks himself that question, standing uneasily, as if he were being drawn into the gravitational pull that Baekhyun emitted, students orbiting around him thoughtlessly. He stops in his tracks at once, however, cheeks heating in embarrassment. 

Who said Baekhyun would even remember who he was? Someone as important as him surely wouldn’t. If anything, he had probably taken pity on Chanyeol that night. A lost, frazzled freshman who had stumbled upon his bedroom, and nothing more. 

Standing just a mere foot away from the table, Chanyeol was glad he had stopped himself, because he kept catching glimpses of the boy and his flashy getup as he weaved in and out of crowds of tie dying students, shaking his hips along to the music blaring from the speakers above his head. And just merely looking at the boy sent tidalwaves of embarrassment up his spine. 

Return back to see Byun Baekhyun?

What on earth had he been thinking?

If anything, he should be _avoiding_ seeing the senior again, unable to keep the cringe at bay when he remembers how pathetic he must have seemed that night. 

So, with an annoyed sigh, Chanyeol turns on his heel, wondering if he should just head to the library for now, despite how nice the weather was, to get his work done. And just as he had taken a couple steps forward, he’s rooted in place as a familiar, obnoxious voice rings out from behind. 

_“Yo! Stringbean!”_

Eyes widening to saucers, Chanyeol wills the ground to open up and swallow him where he stood, the idle chatter of the people around dying as the voice rings out loud and clear. He doesn’t move from his spot. He doesn’t even breath. 

“I know you can hear me, beanpole. Come here!”

It was as if he could _feel_ every individual set of eyes burning a hole into the back of his head, and Chanyeol tries to do something, anything. But his knees are locked in place, heartbeat jackhammering in his chest. 

Baekhyun had seen him. It was undeniable. 

Chanyeol considers booking it. 

_“Chanyeol!”_

Switching tactics now, the senior had turned on his megaphone once more, and Chanyeol wonders why he didn’t just give up and turn around at this point. The longer he avoided doing so, the more attention he was drawing to himself. He could physically feel the burn in the tips of his ears. 

Maybe he was just overreacting. Baekhyun had even remembered his _name._ Maybe he should just turn around, and act casual and collected. 

But, because he is Park Chanyeol, and he has no fucking clue how to succumb to social cues, his feet move before his mind can react, taking hasty steps in the opposite direction Baekhyun was asking for. 

He was committing social suicide, essentially, is what he was really doing. Yes. 

He didn’t make it that far, though. 

A small hand suddenly, and roughly, curls around one of Chanyeol’s bicep, yanking him back so hard a shocked gasp tumbles its way out of his gaping mouth. In a split second, he’s spun around to blink down at a very colorful looking Baekhyun.

“You actually deaf or something?” the senior tsks, face masking annoyance, but his eyes twinkled in mischief. He knew. He had to know how mortified Chanyeol must be feeling, from the red flush spreading all over his face to his bugging eyes and hands held stiff to his sides. 

“I-I…” Chanyeol fumbles for the right words, heart beating so wildly in his chest he swore he was going to pass out. The eyes he felt from earlier he could now see, all the students behind them peering over at the two in interest. 

Probably from wondering who the hell it was blatantly ignoring their precious Byun Baekhyun. 

“Where are you off to in such a hurry, string bean? Come join the fun,” Baekhyun tugs once, backing up towards the stands, jerking his head in that direction. 

Anxiety building with every forced step, Chanyeol begins shaking his head frantically, doing his best to dig his feet into the ground. This, however, causes Baekhyun to stumble forward, and crash directly into his broad chest. To steady himself from falling, the freshman had wrapped his fingers around the smaller boys waist. 

Nice. 

Looking up slowly, Baekhyun’s hands were bunched into the fabric of his hoodie, lips pursed. 

“I-I,” Chanyeol stammers, mortified. The senior was so close, Chanyeol could smell his shampoo. Apple. Or cinnamon maybe. 

Blinking up through his thick lashes, Baekhyun looks down at Chanyeol’s hands, still firmly placed on his full hips. Chanyeol’s ears burn as his gaze slides back up, an eyebrow perched and a coy smirk toying his pink lips. 

“Only you would wear a giant ass hoodie on a day as nice as this, huh?” he whispers, running his fingers down the expanse of Chanyeol’s chest languidly, and the boy has to forcibly stop himself from shivering. 

Releasing the senior at once, Chanyeol stumbles backwards, ignoring the taunting remarks of the students around them, cringing as he heard one catcall obnoxiously. 

“I h-have too, uhm,” Chanyeol clears his throat, willing his racing heart to calm down. “I have class.”

Hip cocked, arms crossed and smile as bright as ever, Baekhyun didn’t look convinced, but he figured he had tormented the poor freshman enough for one day. So he nods, shrugging his shoulders wistfully. But before he turns, and heads back to the stand of awaiting students, he looks Chanyeol dead in the eyes. 

“We’re throwing another party this weekend, string bean. Come by to get a real lesson this time, yeah? I’ll be expecting you.”

And with that, Byun Baekhyun disappears once more amongst the crowd, the attention of those around him no longer focused on him. He was long forgotten quickly, and almost in a daze, Chanyeol stays rooted in place a moment longer, eyes glossed over from staring at where the boy once stood. 

Until finally, he wills himself to turn and head towards his next class, heart still ticking a second too fast. 

 

“You want to _what?!”_

Sehun and Jongin had paused, turning from their current round in Super Smash Bros., eyes wide and mouths ajar. 

Chanyeol shuffles uncomfortably, rolling his eyes. 

“You heard me the first time. Don’t make me say it again.” 

Jongin puts his controller down, turning all the way around to stare at his roommate. 

“You’re serious then. You want to go out with us again this weekend?” he asks, incredulous. 

“Yes.”

Sehun had turned now as well, shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You’re dead serious.”

 _“Yes,”_ Chanyeol sighs, growing impatient at the two’s owl-wide eyes. 

“Dude, yeah, of course you can come out with us,” Jongin starts, and Sehun jumps in, finishing for him. 

“But _why?”_

Chanyeol moves to lean against the door of his bedroom, facing into the living room. 

“I dunno. I just thought last weekend could have gone better. So why not give it another shot.”

In that moment, a roar of approval rips through the two boys, and they stand, rushing over to a scared-looking Chanyeol in a frenzy, hollering on the top of their lungs. 

_“Hell yeah, man! That’s the fucking spirit!”_

_“We were to scared to ask you to come out again, we never imagined you’d ask us to go out!”_

_“I’m so excited, bro, we should get you to pledge with us!!”_

 

Being shaken and thrown around by his two friends was slowly becoming one of the most unpleasant experiences Chanyeol’s come to know. He attempts to break out of their grips, trying to yell out over their obnoxious screeching, but to no avail. The festivities continued until a neighbor from next door slammed something, unidentifiable, against the wall next door to effectively shut them up. 

The frazzled freshman went to bed that night, heart in his throat as he anticipated the upcoming next few days ahead. 

*****

Never one to chose fashion over comfort, Chanyeol was faced with a serious issue, staring helplessly into his closet with a frown. 

His oversized jackets, hoodies, sweaters and crewnecks had never looked so unappealing to him before, and he shuffles through his ridiculous number of adidas track jackets, huffing. Why didn’t he own one single fancy looking article of clothing?

He needed a wardrobe update, and soon. 

To his left, he catches Sehun pop his head inside, seizing the look of utter misery on his roommate's face, and lets out an unceremonial snort. 

“Having some trouble there, Yeol?”

Slamming his closet door with a huff, Chanyeol turns to Sehun, crossing his arms. 

“Help me,” he mumbles, taking in the boy's outfit and inwardly kicking himself for not realizing sooner how much a bum he looks like next to his two stylish friends. Sehun’s getup consisted of a gray denim button up, chest exposed in all the right places, along with a pair of tight-fitting black slacks, settling around his thin figure perfectly. 

Curse Sehun for his naturally gorgeous appearance and bubbly ass. 

The black belt tight around his waist looked expensive, thanks to the boy’s pricey taste in fashion. 

“Don’t worry, I’ve had an outfit in mind for you for days now.”

Moments later, standing in front of Jongin’s full-body mirror, Chanyeol sizes himself up, pursing his lips. 

He had to give it to Sehun and Jongin this time. He looked pretty good. 

The outfit they had thrown together wasn’t out of his comfort zone either, a large, yet tight fitted black graphic tee matched a pair of _extremely_ ripped black jeans. Jongin had shuffled through his desk drawers and thrown on a long, chained necklace while Sehun returned from the restroom with a small case inside his hands, shoving it Chanyeol’s way. 

“What is this?” he peers down at the packaged box, eyebrows furrowed. 

“Colored contacts. Blue. Go put them on.”

Blinking back at Sehun, Chanyeol frowns. 

“Why?”

“Cuz it’ll tie the whole outfit together, don’t question it just go put them on.”

“But I don’t like how they feel in my eyes-”

 _“Go,”_ Jongin shoves him into the restroom and with a long, wistful sigh, Chanyeol complies. 

It had taken a few minutes, though, since he had dropped the damned things a dozen of times trying to get them past his rapidly blinking eyeballs, but surely enough, he had two pairs of baby blue contacts in his eyes. And truth be told, he didn’t mind them as much as he thought he would. They were a subtle blue, yet attention grabbing. 

Something to catch even the ever-desired senior’s attention, maybe. 

“How’s it lookin’, Yeol?” Jongin and Sehun enter the bathroom then, and both boys stop in their tracks when the taller of the three turns to face them. 

Letting out a low whistle, Jongin nods in approval.

“Wow, you actually look _hot_ Chanyeol.”

“The fuck is that supposed mean?” he whines, fake lunging in the boy’s direction. 

“It means I was right about this getup,” Sehun smirks triumphantly, eyeing his masterpiece in satisfaction. “This’ll get you laid tonight for sure.”

Chanyeol’s eyes fly wide in shock, and he chokes on his spit, coughing and sputtering in response to the brash statement. 

“What- wait, laid? Who said I wanted to get laid tonight?” he continues to cough into his palm, feeling a nervous sweat build on his forehead. 

Laughing, the two roommates look at Chanyeol in amusement. 

“Who _doesn’t_ want to get laid, Yeol? We figured since we made your night a mess last weekend, we’d at least help you end your night the right way this time.”

“You don’t have to do that, really, guys-”

“You’re welcome!” Jongin interjects, slapping his hand over his shoulder to lead them out of the cramped restroom. 

“No need to thank us, man!” 

Staring up at the sky as he was led out of the dorms, and down the nearly barren streets of the city once more, Chanyeol wonders if he was setting himself up for disappointment again. Then again, Baekhyun had _told_ him to come back. 

So, if anything, he should have faith in that. 

The walk to the frat house seemed a lot shorter this time around, and it might have had to with the fact that he wasn’t staring down at his feet in a pit of anger and anxiety the entire walk this time. This time, however, the line to the door looked even _longer_ than before. Which was saying a lot. 

“We’re gonna spend all night trying to get inside,” Chanyeol mumbles, rubbing his bare arms to help warm himself up. 

“Don’t worry about that,” Sehun laughs, leading them past the line to make their way to the back gate. Where Chanyeol had exited before. “I’ve been sleeping with Minseok for the past week, he’ll let us in no problem.”

“You’ve been sleeping with a senior?”

Nodding, Sehun looks back with a coy smile. 

“My place into this fraternity has been secured and locked.”

Shaking his head, Chanyeol snorts, a bit dazed at how brazen his friends behaved. He tried imagining himself in the others shoes, and his nearly laughs from how ridiculous it seemed. He doesn’t understand why Sehun would even need to go so far as to sleep with someone to get into a fraternity, considering how easily he fit the criteria. Him and Jongin both should have no problem getting in, but if he knew anything about his orange-haired friend, he knew this was probably just a perk from a presented opportunity than anything else. 

The three boys finally make their way to the guarded gate, and the short, stocky male takes heed of their presence at once. 

“Sehun!” he cracks a wide grin. 

“Minseok,” Sehun returns the smile, and leans down to envelope the other in a firm embrace. Chanyeol doesn’t miss the way the older’s hand slides down and squeezes the flesh of Sehun’s plump ass, inwardly snorting to himself. 

And just like that, they were inside. 

“Seems like there’s a lot of people from other schools here tonight,” Jongin comments as they push through the crowds of people standing outside in the backyard. 

Sehun nods, gazing around lazily. 

“It’s kind of annoying. I don’t see many familiar faces yet.” 

It took a bit, but once they had finally managed to worm their way inside the frat house, the familiar booming bass and the intoxicating smell of substance and liquor wash over Chanyeol, sending waves of nervous adrenaline coursing through his veins. 

He was here. Baekhyun was here somewhere too, and upon first instinct, Chanyeol thinks about making his way upstairs again. But he shakes his head, following his roommates through the massive crowd of drunk teenagers. He was told to ask for Baekhyun next time around, figuring it was a warning not to continue barging upstairs in the frat house. 

“So, first things first, let’s grab a drink before we start mingling about,” Jongin shouts over the obnoxiously loud music. 

Sehun was already a step ahead of the two, making his way to the back of the room and returning with three solo cups -- two in hand, one dangling out of his mouth -- distributing them accordingly. 

Chanyeol glances down at the mysterious liquid and makes a face. 

“What’s this?”

Sehun downs the cup in a matter of seconds, smacking his lips. 

“Uh, Jungle Juice. It’s good, tastes as it sounds.”

Hesitating a moment longer, he looks down at the drink once more, before shrugging his shoulders and taking a sip. 

Fruity. As expected. 

It wasn’t that bad, to be quite honest, and before he knew it, Chanyeol had collected four more cups, stacked together as he works on his fifth cup of the concoction, swaying his body around and laughing with his roommates as they bickered and taunted each other. He was even starting to have a good time, the slight buzz of the alcohol kicking in and sending a mile-wide grin across his face. 

“Look at this,” Sehun snorts, nudging Jongin. “Someone’s starting to feel it.”

Laughing, Chanyeol finishes the last of the drink and discards of the stack of cups somewhere. Where? He wasn’t sure. He tossed it to the side and had proceeded to wrap a lanky arm around Jongin’s shoulder with a loud laugh. 

“Let the fun begin,” Sehun grins mischievously, and disappears once again before returning, not with drinks this time, but a handful of people Chanyeol had never seen before. 

There were 3 guys and 2 girls standing before them all now, greeting Jongin and then waving and shouting their hellos to Chanyeol, who does his best to greet them back. 

Jongin had leaned in a moment, as Sehun starts jeering with the group, and whispers:

_“The blonde one, Hyuna, she’s really fucking easy. Also she told Sehun you were hot, so there’s your golden ticket.”_

Pulling back, the brunette winks and smirks, and Chanyeol has to bite back his concerned frown. 

He glances back to the group and jolts when he makes eye contact with the girl Jongin was speaking of, her smokey black eyes narrowed and her cherry-red lips pulled back in a haughty smirk. And, after a series of forgotten moments, Chanyeol had ended up separated from the rest of the group as more and more people packed inside the stuffy house, with Hyuna pressed directly up against him. 

“Where did everyone go?” he mumbles after glancing around the room, vision blurring. 

“Dunno,” Hyuna hums, her hands gripping one of Chanyeol’s forearms tightly, steadying herself as she swayed her hips to the music. “Wanna dance?” she purrs, turning her head to stare at him directly. 

Pursing his lips, Chanyeol tries to think a moment. There was nothing particularly enticing about this girl, from her melting makeup to her obvious push up bra. But before he could even give her a proper answer, she had already pushed back against Chanyeol, her hands moving back to guide his own to her hips. 

Kendrick Lamar was playing over the loudspeakers. Something slow, grimy. He thinks Rihanna featured in it. He tried to focus on the music, eyes glossed over and mind moving on its own in response to the lithe blonde rocking her hips back and forth before him. Chanyeol had to hand it to her, it looked like she knew what she was doing. If things kept up, there was a good chance he’d have a shot to fuck her later on. 

Aware of this, the freshmen falls back in his thoughts, hips still swaying. 

Did he want to sleep with this girl?

There wasn’t anything stopping him. However, to his friends and this girls knowledge, they didn’t know he was a virgin, especially by the way she rutted, purposefully, against his groin showed very well she wasn’t going to stop him either if he decided to take things a step further. But as the song continued to progress, and as the idea of sleeping with the blonde played over in his mind, the less appealing it seemed to him. 

His first time being with some cheap hookup? No thanks. 

He wasn’t even semi-hard, which was odd. Any guy in there right mind would take the opportunity Chanyeol guesses, and add to the collection of however many guys this girl had racked up in her body count. 

But by the end of the song, his grip on her hips and loosened, and his body movements had slowed, mind seemingly made up. 

No, he didn’t. And he wasn’t under and obligation to do so either. 

But Hyuna on the other hand, had other ideas in mind. 

Because as Chanyeol released his hold on the girl, ready to thank her for the dance but excuse himself in search of Sehun and Jongin, Hyuna spins around, and _latches_ her body around his tall frame, and sucks his lips into hers. 

In a split second, he had this girl quite literally all over him. And Chanyeol was really over it, to be quite honest. Her grip around his neck was tight, her chest pressing up into his own as she tiptoed, kiss sloppy and open-mouthed. 

It took a matter of minutes before he was pushing Hyuna back, detaching his lips and frowning as he wipes the residue of her lipsticks off his face. The blonde stares back in shock, gaze darkening. 

“What? Wanna take this somewhere else?” she slurs. 

Shaking his head, Chanyeol looks down at her. 

“No, uh, I’m sorry but I gotta go find Sehun.”

“Wait,” she pauses, laughing sarcastically. “What, you don’t wanna hook up?”

“Not particularly, no. I’m sorry,” he says apologetically. 

Scoffing, mouth open wide in shock, Hyuna balls his hands to fists. 

“That’s rich. Whatever, you skinny fuck. You weren’t even that hot anyways, you just look like you’d have a big dick. What a waste.”

Chanyeol, feeling very annoyed and semi-violated, laughs to himself, and already begins skimming the room for his friends. 

“Yeah what a waste, because I _do_ have a big dick, and you’ll never get the pleasure of having it up your loose-ass pussy. See ya.”

Without sparing the sputtering girl another glance, Chanyeol slips through the groups of people, eyes searching. Roommates nowhere in sight, he sighs to himself. 

While he acknowledges the rude and brash way he treated Hyuna, he was too woozy off his supply of drinks earlier to really care. He’d normally bite his tongue, but when he just had another forcibly shoved down his throat, he figured just this once he could let it slide. 

The night was already beginning to head south, and he’s sure they’d only been at the party 45 minutes or so. Great. 

Suddenly, he remembers of the real reason he even wanted to _come_ to this damned party. To find the one who had formally invited Chanyeol himself. 

He came to find Baekhyun. 

Catching sight of a group of boys in the back of the room, who were still serving alcohol, he remembers seeing a couple of them the other day during the tie dye event. 

Bingo. 

“Hey uh,” Chanyeol stumbles past a gaggle of girls blocking his way. “I need to uh-”

“Beer or jungle juice?” the boy cuts him off, already reaching for a cup. 

“No, no, not that-”

“We got a wine box in the back, but we’re not cracking that out until all the beer or juice runs out.”

“No, dude,” he shakes his head, and the boy puts down the cup, finally looking Chanyeol in the eye. 

“What the hell do you want then?”

“I’m looking for uh, Baekhyun.”

The blaring speakers above them swallows the silence, and the boy raises an eyebrow in amusement. 

“Byun. You’re looking for Byun? And who the hell are you, again?” he snorts. Chanyeol could feel his cheeks heat in embarrassment. 

“I-I’m Chanyeol, uh, Park Chanyeol, he told me to come and ask for him-”

“Oh dude,” another voice cuts in, and a taller boy with silver hair peeks in between the two, pointing at Chanyeol in surprise. “Byun did mention to send a boy his way if he showed up. He fits the description too.”

Heart beating wildly in his chest, Chanyeol fights back his excitement. 

“What description?” he inquires. 

The silver-haired boy laughs to himself a moment. 

“Skinny, tall as a lamp post, dark hair that’ll probably be swept over his forehead. Handsome, but with a dorky charm or some shit. Whatever that means”

The last few words sends a jolt of electricity up Chanyeol’s spine.

“So I’m guessing it's you, then?”

“Y-yeah, he told me to come tonight.”

“Cool, alright, follow me man. He’s probably somewhere in the back.”

Heart literally in his throat, the freshman follow this boy to undisclosed parts of the house, that were dark and sparsely populated. He assumed only those in the frat or closely associated with it were allowed back here. The kitchen had empty beer cases littered _everywhere,_ crunching under his shoes every other step. 

Finally, they make it into a narrow hallway, leading to another set of stairs that lead to what looks to be a basement. At first, it seems like they had come to a dead end. Chanyeol couldn’t see anyone in the dimly lit hall. 

But upon second glance he sees two figures ahead of them. Two figures, who were really close to one another. Actually, _really_ close to each other. 

Oh. 

Chanyeol stops dead in his tracks as they make it to a close enough distance that he could distinguish the forms of the two, heart stopping in his chest. 

One of them was clearly Baekhyun. Chanyeol could see him, body curled and arched against the tall, broad frame of the taller man in front of him. The scene he saw made the skin on Chanyeol’s arms raise, eyes nearly bulging out of his skull. 

The obscene noises could be heard loud and clear now, the wet smacking of lips, the panting whimpers that he was nearly a thousand percent sure came from the shorter of the two, pressing his hips back and grinding his ass into the groping hands of the man towering above him, pressed directly against the wall. 

All in one moment, Chanyeol wanted to turn and sprint and go far, far away from the house. Far away from the party, from the smell of booze and the eardrum-shattering music, and the image of the senior getting his mouth completely ravaged by the stranger before him. 

But the longer he stared, the more he couldn’t bring himself to look away. Baekhyun looked… so _intoxicating._

“Byun!”

The spell is broken, both Chanyeol and Baekhyun jumping when the fraternity brother yells in the hushed hall. 

Turning slowly as the binding hands gripping his ass loosen up, Baekhyun’s eyes flash with a searing amount of annoyance and anger that Chanyeol takes a cautious step backwards.

“What the fuck do you want?” he wipes the corner of his mouth, body still somewhat facing the male he was kissing seconds ago. 

“I uh,” the frat boy pauses, and steps out of the way to finally showcase a frozen Chanyeol, eyes wide and fearful. “I brought the dude you were telling us to look out for.”

Time seemed slow for a bit, now. It was like those scenes in those overdramatic dramas his mother liked to watch, where the world inches by seconds behind, dramatic music sweeps and sways across the room and his heart clenches as Baekhyun trains his eyes on the freshman before him. 

Byun Baekhyun was surely a mystery to Chanyeol. Because he had to really figure out who this guy really _was._ When he first had met him, he was a soft and laid-back gamer spending his Friday night playing rounds of League of Legends and stuffing Pringles into his mouth. A couple days ago, he was the loud, obnoxious and borderline twinky looking boy parading around in a feather boa and trailing students wherever he stepped foot. 

But today?

Today, Baekhyun was _ethereal._ From head to toe, Baekhyun was jaw-droppingly gorgeous. His hair was styled today, blowdried and feathery, curling around his forehead comma-style. Even from the distance between them, Chanyeol could see the smoky red eyeshadow and pale, creamy foundation popping out to greet him. His eyeliner brought out his eyes, and never in his life did he ever think a single male could look so beautiful in fucking _eyeliner._

Chanyeol willed himself to speak. To open his mouth, and stop gaping like a dying fish, but Baekhyun was wearing a pink button down _twice his size,_ exposing way more of the seniors chest than he was ready to see, tucked neatly in the front into a pair of ripped black skinnies. 

So, like always, Baekhyun is the first to speak. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually show, bean sprout. I’m pleasantly surprised,” he flashes a blinding smile, kicking up the poor freshman’s already racing heart rate. 

Looking back to the man still leaning against the wall, and then back at the black-haired boy, Chanyeol gives a weak smile in return. 

“Sorry for uh, interrupting,” he says with an awkward laugh, aware now that the frat boy from earlier had disappeared moments ago. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Baekhyun looks perplexed a moment, but then a look of realization washes over him. He glances back at the boy, almost surprised, as if he had forgotten he was even there. Raising his eyebrows, he jerks his head to the left, and the boy takes the hint, pushing himself off the wall and stalking off down the corridor and disappearing out of sight. When Baekhyun turns his attention back to him, he’s moved closer now, wrapping an arm around the boy’s waist playfully. 

“I really didn’t think you’d come string bean!” he teases. 

Chanyeol’s senses assaulted at once again, the smell, the proximity of Baekhyun sending his mind spinning once again. And not because of the alcohol this time around. 

“What’s with you and calling me assorted bean lingo?”

Pausing, Baekhyun looks up at him and snorts. 

“It’s fitting.”

“If you say so.”

“You having fun so far? I was considering heading up to my room and seeing if you were hiding under my bed or something.” 

Rolling his eyes, Chanyeol feels his lips quirk at the side, biting back his smile. 

“It’s been alright, I guess.”

“Oho, not up to your standards, eh?”

“Could use a couple million more people. Maybe you should consider turning up the music a bit more, I can still hear out of my eardrums.”

Baekhyun was heartily laughing, his one hand still digging into Chanyeol’s side, making the freshman’s insides flip and tumble restlessly. 

“So you’re a smartass when you’re drunk, is that it?” Baekhyun cocks his brow up. 

“I’m not drunk,” Chanyeol replies, and it’s half-true. While he wasn’t particularly sober, he was still on his own feet. 

“Let’s fix that then, shall we?” Baekhyun quips, and when the freshman grows the balls to finally look down into the senior’s eyes, he takes in the glossy eyes and crooked smile of the boy. 

Baekhyun was definitely drunk. 

“You sure though?” he asks, as the latter begins dragging him down the corridor by his waist. “How’re we going to get through a lesson if we’re drunk?”

Seemingly perplexed, the black-haired boy pouts while he wracks his brain, only looking back up when he regains his memory. 

“Oh! Oh, the, the League lesson? Yeah! Yeah, no, we’ll still do that. For sure. But, y’know, we can get to it in a little bit. Why don’t you come with me, we’ll pull from my stash of _good_ shit. I’ll get you feeling fucking great, my little beanpole. I’ll teach you some other stuff for now.”

Rambling coming an end, Chanyeol stares into the mischievous glint in the other boy’s eyes, hands growing clammier by the second. 

“I-I dunno, Baekhyun, I’m not really a drinker-”

“It’ll be _fun_ Chanyeol,” he purrs, the sound of his own name on the senior’s tongue sending electricity flowing through his entire body, nerves standing on end. “Trust me.”

There was a stagnant pause, the distant bass and music could be heard in the background, and after a while, Baekhyun lets out a sigh. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll ease up,” his grip on Chanyeol’s waist loosens, and the latter's heart drops, already missing the warmth of the other boy. “We’ll uh, just go up in a bit and I’ll boot up the game-”

“Wait-” Chanyeol reaches out as Baekhyun turns away, gripping his forearm and yanking him back in his space. “I-I.. I’ll do it.”

Baekhyun was the type to usually get his way, and it showed, the way his face lit up in a split second from moments ago, smiling so hard his laugh lines showed. 

“That’s the spirit!” he yells, grabbing Chanyeol’s hand and _racing_ down the hall in earnest, hooping and hollering the entire way, sending tidalwaves of anxiety through the poor freshman trailing behind him in fear. 

 

There was always a stereotype when it came to college parties, surrounding fraternities and sororities and the drunkard, borderline alcoholic activity of them all. You see it in movies, in books and television shows. Glorifying the hectic lifestyle, and leaving people either turning their noses or envying what they wish they could partake in. 

Chanyeol never thought much of it. Honestly, he hadn’t partied much in high school and the transition to college never rose a desire to start either. But he hadn’t thought any of the stereotypes were entirely true, that they were merely exaggerated for their desired effect. 

But here he was, in the heart of the chaotic party, surrounded by a gaggle of people he’d never seen in his life, _screaming and cheering him on_ as he tipped back shot after shot Baekhyun presented to him. It was some type of vodka; Smirnoff or Grey Goose maybe. Chanyeol wasn’t sure, he was 3 in and his head was reeling. 

“‘Er we go!” Baekhyun was jeering along, laughing and clapping as he motions someone to throw him a beer. “Chanyeol! Chanyeol, here, here, let’s teach you how to shotgun.”

The freshman’s handed a can of beer, staring down at it a moment before looking back up at Baekhyun. 

“Shotgun?”

“I’m gonna,” he hiccups, pulling out a pocket knife from his back pocket. “I’m gonna stab a hole at the side of this. When I do, put your mouth to the hole, open the can and _drink.”_

Staring blankly a moment at the other boy, Chanyeol decides, well, _fuck it,_ it sounded simple enough.

“Okay.”

The pocket knife connects with the can with a sharp _‘pop,’_ liquid and foam spurting out rapidly, coating Chanyeol’s right hand instantaneously. He guesses his reaction time was too slow, because Baekhyun had wrapped his own slender hand around his, and forced the can up and pressed it directly to his open mouth, a triumphant smirk on his lips as he watches the freshman immediately begin to gulp the bitter liquid down. 

“There we go,” Baekhyun chuckles, another hand pressing firmly behind the taller boy’s head to keep him in place, face inches from the other. Beer was spilling over Chanyeol’s lips, running down his chin and falling onto Sehun’s t-shirt as he continued to struggle swallowing mouthfuls of the carbonated beverage. He was sure he could have lasted, just a moment longer, he could feel the can’s weight against his mouth lighten, and the flow of liquid decrease as Baekhyun tipped his head back forcefully. 

He could have, Chanyeol really believed so. Until he made the unfortunate mistake of opening his eyes, and glancing down to catch sight of Baekhyun, his hooded eyes staring at his bobbing neck and clenching jaw. In a sudden moment, he was choking, pulling away and coughing heavily into his sleeve, eyes watering at the carbonations burned his nostrils. Baekhyun merely cheers and laughs in response, pressing the can to his lips and finishing what was left of the beer, and tossing it aside. 

“Nice job string bean, not bad for your first shotgun!”

Clearing his throat, Chanyeol comes too again, head _whirling._ He was sufficiently drunk now, the entire room blurring in and out as he focused on the pretty boy before him. 

Baekhyun, who drank more than he did, was still on his feet. How? Chanyeol wasn’t sure. 

“What? You tapping out already?” the black-haired senior teases, leaning back against the kitchen counter. 

“Wha-no,” he mumbles back. Chanyeol couldn’t lie, he was having the absolute time of his life, and wasn’t willing to let it end yet. “No. I’m good.”

Eyebrow raised in speculation, Baekhyun shrugs, and moves away from the counter to point at it. 

“Really? I’m glad, because it’s time for another lesson. We’ve learned the art of shotgunning, my dear little Chanyeol, but let’s move on to something we like to call,” he pauses, moving to plant his elbows at the end of the table, smiling as he rests his chin in his palms. “Body shots.”

_Body shots._

Glancing at the table, mute and frozen in place, Chanyeol takes a final glance at the senior before looking up at the ceiling and sending a quick prayer, willing any celestial being to keep his sanity intact tonight, as Byun Baekhyun quite literally sends his heart into cardiac arrest. 

 

Baekhyun was hovering over his bare stomach now, eyes trained on the pool of liquor gathered at his naval, shifting with every nervous tremble rocking through the poor boy. Eyes hazy, Chanyeol was straining his neck as he, and every other person in the vicinity watches on as Baekhyun takes his sweet time, dipping his head down at breathing heavy breathes on Chanyeol’s quivering stomach. 

“Keep still, beanpole,” he breathes, watching a trail of alcohol trickle down Chanyeol’s stomach, past his happy trail, and disappearing into the fabric of the waistband of his briefs. 

The anticipation was palpable, building and driving the freshman to the brink of insanity. And when the senior’s lips finally make contact with his skin, he jolts as if he had been shocked with a gigawatt of electricity, eyes flown wide and mouth agape, the sucking sensation that had so quickly appeared, disappearing as Baekhyun pops back up, licking his plump, pink lips. 

“You’re so warm,” he giggles, wiping his mouth before pulling Chanyeol’s shirt down, and patting his arm once. “How was that? Weird right? Were you watching? Cuz you gotta do one on me now.”

Never in his life had Chanyeol bolted upwards so fast, nearly falling off the table, as he scrambled off to the wait for Baekhyun to take the same position he had. Face still red and heated from earlier, the intensity of it only began to grow at the mere thought of seeing the other boys smooth, pale flesh in front of him. 

But just as Baekhyun was about to hop up on the table, a boy comes tumbling into the kitchen, eyes searching for a certain senior. And when he spots him, he dashes over in haste. 

“Baek!” the boy, his hoop earring dangling flying to and fro as he moved. “The dealer finally showed up, and look,” he pulls two brown-colored sticks from behind his ear, presenting them to the fraternity leader. Confused, Chanyeol squints, the two objects looking like skinny cigars. 

“Oh,” Baekhyun plucks the rolled up joints out of the other’s hands, twirling them around for good measure, before a slow, maniacal smile spreads across his face. “ _Oh._ Thanks Yixing,” he claps the boy on the back, before turning back to Chanyeol, eyes holding the familiar mischievous glint from earlier tonight. 

“Hey Chanyeol,” he coos. 

“Uh, what, what are those?” he mumbles. “Are you getting on the table?” his mind immediately returns to what had been so rudely interrupted moments ago. 

“No, I found something better for us to do, Chanyeol.”

“But,” a pout immediately finds its way to his lips. “B-but I wanna try!”

Chuckling, Baekhyun walks closer, waving the blunts in his general direction. 

“Another time, maybe. Trust me, this’ll be so much _better.”_

Standing directly in front of him now, the pouting freshman looks down at the joints in suspicion. 

“What are those? Cigars?”

Snorting, Baekhyun shakes his head, and wafts one of the blunts in front of the freshman’s nose. 

“No, _better.”_

The smell hits Chanyeol immediately, one he familiarizes with what he first smelled when he came into the house and also with a smell that sometimes fills their apartment when his roommates lock themselves in their bedrooms. 

“It’s-”

“Weed,” Chanyeol finishes, biting a lip. 

Eyes lighting immediately, Baekhyun nods. 

“Yeah! You ever smoked before?”

Shaking his head immediately, the freshman suddenly feels a wave of fear pool in his gut. 

“Well, tonights going to be a lot of firsts for you, huh?” Baekhyun nods, tucking one of the joints behind his ear, while placing the other at his lips, holding it there as he searched around his his jean pockets for a lighter. 

“Wait, wait, Baek,” hiccuping, the freshman, who was _sufficiently_ drunk, shakes his head, heart hammering his his chest. 

“Don’t worry Chanyeol, it’s not too bad, I’ll help you.”

Not to sound like a stick in the mud, but Chanyeol was fairly scared of doing drugs. Underage drinking, okay, sure, it was illegal but manageable. But _drugs?_

If he was caught doing marijuana, he’d lose his scholarship. And if he lost his scholarship, he wouldn’t be able to afford his classes anymore. And if _that happened,_ he’d end up back home, working with his father in the cafe. 

“I-” 

And just as he was opening his mouth to protest, he pauses, watching Baekhyun pull a lighter from his back pocket to light the joint between his lips. The senior inhales deeply, other hand flying up to help steady it, cheekbones exaggerating as his cheeks cave inwards. 

That was enough to make Chanyeol’s lips turn dry, eyes fixated on the others lips, mind hazy. Baekhyun was so _toxic,_ everything about him making the taller feel drugged in awe. When he exhaled, the smoke washed over Chanyeol’s senses, drawing him out of his daze. 

“Here,” he purrs, pressing the joint to the freshman’s lips.

And of course, being the pushover he was, Chanyeol complied. 

Almost instantly, all he could do was cough. The smoke had barely stayed in his lungs for more than a few seconds before he was doubled over, hacking into his arm, chest on fire. 

“It’s okay, it’s normal,” Baekhyun soothes, rubbing his back, urging him to stand fully once more. “Take another drag, don’t inhale as much, try and hold it in for as long as you can.”

So, he tried again. Eyes watering, lips trembling as he did his best to keep another cough at bay, he tried once more. 

The sting wasn’t as bad this time, but he was only able to keep the smoke in a second or two longer, coughing it back out, but with a little less, _“oh this is the end for me”_ kind of vibe. 

“One more, Chanyeol.”

This time, when he inhaled, _he felt it._ The sharp inhale, sending the smoke tumbling back down his burning throat, felt laggy and slow, his head almost slowing down time as the rest of his body scrambled to catch up. He held in the smoke, a second, two, three, god knows how long, eyes narrowed to slits as he tried focusing on the strobe lights in the living room. 

“Shit, okay, you can exhale now,” Baekhyun laughs, shaking Chanyeol’s arm, who looks down, unaware that he was even still _holding_ his breath. 

Exhaling with a sigh, Chanyeol stumbled a step back, his entire body firing off nerves and sensations he had never felt before, startling him. 

“What the _fuck,”_ he drawls, the mixture of alcohol and marijuana coursing through his veins, making his body sway too and fro, mind in another goddamned dimension. 

“You’re feeling it. Welcome to another lesson, Chanyeol. It’s called being crossfaded. How do you feel?” Baekhyun mumbles, leaning against the kitchen fridge. 

“Fucking, I don’t know, I don’t know,” he replies, tongue feeling foreign in his own mouth. “I can’t- I don’t, the ceiling looks like a _black hole_ Baekhyun.”

Snorting, Baekhyun stumbles forward, taking the still-burning blunt from Chanyeol’s trembling fingers, and taking another deep inhale. As he exhaled the smoke, he smiled in Chanyeol’s general direction. 

“Told you it was fun, listen to your teacher.”

“Teacher?” 

“Yeah. I’m like your, uh, professor.”

“I wish,” Chanyeol huffs. “If any of my professors were half as hot as you, it would make getting through my lectures a _helluva_ lot easier.”

Staring at the freshman in amusement, Baekhyun acknowledges the drunken compliment, fully aware the shy boy probably had lost all restraint in himself. Of course, being the little shit he was, the senior takes this opportunity in his favor. 

“Yeah? You think I’m hot stringbean?” he lowers his voice, moving to rest his chin on the boy’s swaying shoulders. 

Chanyeol glances down, licking his lips at Baekhyun’s close proximity, and instinctively nods. 

“Y-yeah. You’re so hot, I don’t understand.”

“Why? What’s so hard to understand?”

“You!” Chanyeol sighs. “I saw you twice, and you didn’t look like, well you were _really_ attractive, but right now…”

“Right now?” Baekhyun presses, moving even closer, now trapping the freshman between the fridge and his body. 

Eyes starry and vacant, Chanyeol stares down at him in what can only be described as pure awe. 

“You’re ethereal. Like, if I touched you… you’d… like glitch out like some fuckin’ hologram or something.”

Baekhyun bursts out laughing then, steadying himself with Chanyeol’s body as he shook with laughter. 

“That’s the oddest compliment I’ve ever gotten, by far. But, I’ll take it.”

Chanyeol was smiling, but his head wasn’t even registering what was going on. His comfortable high was slowly edging off, hurling him towards the feeling of completely blacking out. 

“Why don’t you just touch me and find out for yourself?” Baekhyun whispers now, pressing himself dangerously close, and before Chanyeol could even have a chance to react, he feels his body begin to sag, falling forward, and in an instantaneous moment, he was out. 

The last thing he remembered before he blacked out was Baekhyun’s frantic voice and the sound of the ear-shattering music cutting out.


End file.
